


interlude

by missmeparadox



Series: teenage disasters [4]
Category: Smosh
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Idiots in Love, Multi, No Smut, Polyamory, Suicidal Thoughts, Teenagers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-16
Updated: 2017-09-16
Packaged: 2018-12-30 12:38:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12108900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missmeparadox/pseuds/missmeparadox
Summary: "There's something like poetry in you, how your soul lives in the toes of your shoes"the summer before senior year is the hardest, mostly because it'll be a goddamn miracle if some of them make it to september.





	interlude

**Author's Note:**

> all credit again to smosh-stuff, their links are in the series description. drop a line and let me know what you think!

the drone of heat on asphalt is near deafening this summer. their group spends most of the time hidden in the shade of joven’s living room, or maybe wes’s house should they be so lucky.

"joven, you're lucky i don't go around chasing older women, cause your mom's a damn delight," flitz proudly proclaims from his position as mari's throne for the evening.

sohinki begins another round of "come on darleen" as joven aims a shoe at flitz's chest with much gusto and laughable precision, sending a bowl of popcorn skyward. their laughter could level the street.

* * *

 mari never does learn to ride a bike by the end of july; all efforts to teach her end in one of the guys sweeping her from the ground before impact. instead, she wears her helmet with pride and sits on lasercorn or flitz’s handlebars like a lookout in a crow’s nest.

boze and wes learn to skateboard, but still prefer to sit, stacked like nesting dolls in the backseat. their little party grows when damien moves in up the street, and even if they have to squeeze to fit everyone into the backseat (and, in a pinch, toss sohinki in the trunk for a few miles, come /on/ man, it's not going to kill you), it almost feels perfect.

it almost feels like home.

* * *

 with the added chunk of change from lasercorn and damien's summer jobs, they can afford to drive to the next town (better safe than sorry) to catch the matinee showings of old horror movies while the sidewalk bubbles outside.

boze and mari scare the easiest, but sohinki would squash them both if they measured volume. they sit between their group, bookended by wes and flitz, and the empty theater means there's no double take when they hold hands.

or when lasercorn sneaks a rubber tarantula into joven's popcorn during Arachnophobia.

* * *

 the tracks at the edge of town, behind flitz’s neighborhood, call to them like open ocean. there, no one cares if mari kisses boze, or two of the guys, or all of them in succession. they can lie in piles and drink like they’re dying and hold eachother back from setting off down the tracks without looking back.

the nights when the trains come are the hardest. the nights when lasercorn gets slam dunk drunk are even harder. early on, david would dance at the edges of the rails, only to leap off when the engine came too close.

“it’s a game,” he tells them. his hands are shaking. joven looks into his eyes and sees fire.

after one long, long day, mari stands at the center of the track, chin raised like a prizefighter, for longer than any of them have ever dared to. in the end, it takes wes yanking her from the track and back towards the rest of them to avoid the train.

mari looks at all of them, eyes shining, and stands shock still. it’s not a game anymore. flitz sleeps over, and doesn't dare speak until she's emptied out a weeks worth of frustrations against the front of his shirt and reaches for his belt.

"don't try that," he sits them up and opens his arms wide, "i wanna see the real you, the part you don't let us see."

* * *

 now when they play chicken, it’s in pairs. two hands clenching eachother in the light of incoming death.

sohinki has the hardest time facing the headlights, but he volunteers, always, when he is asked. the warm hand in his is almost enough to tether him back to reality, back to the present where he is loved and loved and loved enough forsomeone to always pull him away from the train. damien is new in tooth and claw compared to the absolute wild of everyone of these people he thinks he may love, but he never backs down from the offer of an extended hand. they need him as much as he does.

* * *

 

boze can't swim, and has no intention of learning this late in the game, but spends the heavy afternoon of the fourth of july in a pair of trunks calling out scores as  the others take turns diving from the high lip of the quarry. 

mari sits next to her (content to let the boys injure eachother and not ruin her dye job) and arranges a smattering of yellow dandelions in her hair. they make quite the pair; her sunburnt and freckled with long legs while boze seems to glow in the golden light of half past three.

"i can hear you thinking," boze pokes her in the side without looking back. sohinki is gearing up to jump again.

"one of us has to," she quips back.

matt's olympic worthy dismount is ruined by joven and lasercorn cannon balling into the lake directly after him, damien close behind. flitz shows them all up with a dive that elicits cheers. mari watches them plummet and feels boze's skin against hers and stops thinking for a while. it can wait.

this can't.

* * *

 sohinki is shaking like a leaf when he brings them to the wall just beyond the tracks, before the quarry that opens up like a mouth beneath them.

"oh shit, man." wes says, which may as well be the understatement of the century.

their names bloom across the cement in a beautiful, dripping efflorescence of paint. in the center, a constellation of 8 faint stars.

* * *

 and so they continue, racing on bikes and skateboard and the odd wagon (because joven broke his foot again and come /on/ wes, just pull me) to their broken bottle kingdom. damien does impressions of their teachers that leave boze in stitches and wears the ring pop she mock proposes to him with with pride. lasercorn- now easing into dave- arm wrestles joven and cheats by having sohinki goose him half way through the match. mari and flitz teach wes (slowly but surely) to pop and lock and all manner of dances, which he insists on practicing with the rest of his partners, to the delight of absolutely everyone.

and yeah, it almost feels like home.


End file.
